Ervolino: Lost Dad in the store, but found some bargains

I was going to begin this column with the words "Saturday was weird ..." until it occurred to me that I began Sunday’s column with "Tuesday was weird ..." and another column, three months ago, with "Friday was weird."

As rocker David Bowie once noted, "People perceive me [as] changing all the time, but there is a real continuity in my subject matter."

Which brings us back to Saturday, when I went out for a seafood dinner with my friend Louise — which wasn’t the least bit weird — hours after I went clothes shopping and fitting-room hopping with Dad — which was.

"Still want to go shopping?" Dad asked on Saturday morning, setting all of this into motion.

"Uh ... sure ..." I said, "as long as we go early. I’m expecting Louise at 2. Can we go around noon?"

"Perfect!" Dad replied.

Actually, this shopping trip was his Father’s Day present. I told him he could go to his favorite store and spend $100 on whatever he wanted.

For Dad, that usually means clothes or shoes. Dad, you see, loves shopping, loves clothes and loves shoes. I hate shopping, hate clothes and hate shoes. So, these excursions are always fascinating.

In fact, the fascinating part often begins in the car.

When I was kid he used to drive me everywhere. Now he just drives me crazy: "Buckle me in!" "How do you open this damned window?" "No, don’t take the highway, take the service road. It’s safer." "This is the best parking space you can get? We’re 100 miles away."

Dad is "legally blind" — a condition I am endlessly confused by. If he’s sitting close enough to a big screen TV, he can see the picture, but can’t make out faces. Other than that, I’m never sure what he can and can’t see.

And this led to problems on Saturday, since I’d never been to the store he had chosen — and had to rely on him to get me there.

"Isn’t it in the same shopping center as Target and Michael’s?" I asked, 10 minutes into our drive.

"No, it’s way past there," he said. "I think. I mean, I know there’s one in Commack. But I’m pretty sure there’s another one around here, somewhere."

"Pretty sure?" I barked, as he squinted out the window. "Why the hell didn’t you..."

"Please don’t wander off," I told him, but he wandered off, anyway. So did I.

Since I have a vacation coming up, I quickly found myself drawn to the luggage department. But, since every suitcase I picked up was between $300 and $500, I quickly found myself exiting the luggage department.

I had no problem locating Dad in men’s wear, where I found him standing around — looking bored — holding a pair of suspenders.